


up in flames

by pleasurific



Series: temptation [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst, Bad Decisions, Blow Jobs, Derek Is Sixteen, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Extremely Underage, Hale House Fire, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rimming, Shota Stiles Stilinski, Shotiles, Stiles is nine, Underage Sex, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 03:38:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17035889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasurific/pseuds/pleasurific
Summary: Derek's only out of the house on a full moon night because he forgot a book at the Stilinkis's. It's when he's driving home that the world goes up in flames.





	up in flames

**Author's Note:**

> **READ THE TAGS THOROUGHLY BEFORE PROCEEDING TO THE STORY!!!**  
>  (suicide baits and other threats will be reported, marked as spam, and then ignored. kthx) 
> 
> If you do choose to read, this is part of a series and while it should be okay to read alone, the rest of the parts provide a lot more context.

Everything goes to hell a few days after the new year starts. Derek greets it at the Stilinskis since the entire Sheriff's station is on full alert as it usually is on New Year's Eve and so is the hospital. Not that he minds, because his house is full of cousins, uncles, and aunts who are staying until the full moon the week after. Derek can't help but think that at least this year it's only a week -- he was less than enthused a few years back when the family members stayed with them for a whole month. 

But with the excuse that he has, he spends midnight with Stiles in his lap, grinding down against Derek's sweatpants-covered hard cock, kissing the boy's lips until they're pink and puffy. He brings Stiles outside to light a few sparklers, then they head up to the guest room and watch the fireworks -- Stiles pressed against the window, Derek right behind him, rolling his hips against Stiles's soft buttocks. 

It's the best start to the New Year that he's had in the entire sixteen years of his life. 

So, because he figures that nothing this good can last forever, everything goes bad a week later. Derek's supposed to be at home, but he's been called over to the Stilinskis to pick up a book he left behind. It's an excuse -- he left it there the day before because the moon is only half a day from its peak and he wanted to see Stiles, to remind himself of his anchor. Derek has figured out that that's what Stiles is to him, not that he's planning on sharing that information with anyone. After all, it only matters that he's gotten better at controlling his shift, even on full moon nights. 

When he's driving back, relaxed and content after a quick kissing session out of Stiles's father's sight, something starts feeling off the moment he crosses the borders of the Preserve. Then he sees the smoke and smells it as soon as he rolls down the window. 

He's torn between speeding ahead and driving back to get help, then he remembers his phone. Dialing the Stilinski's number without thinking, Derek's hands tremble as he drives on, slower than he'd want to since he doesn't want to end up crashing.

"Hey Derek, did you forget anything else?" John asks, sounding amused.

Derek shakes his head, then realizes that John can't see him.

"There's a fire in the woods," he blurts out. "Big one."

"Where are you?" John asks quickly, immediately sounding serious.

There are noises of him moving around in the background along with whatever game that Stiles is obviously playing, explosions from the phone seemingly echoing the cracking sounds that Derek can hear from the woods.

"Almost at the house," Derek says, not stopping the car.

"Turn around, son. Get out of there. I'll call the fire department and I'll head over," John says.

"Can't," Derek breathes out. "Gotta get home."

"Listen to me, Derek," John says in a tone that leaves to room for argument. "If there's a forest fire, you're safer away from it. I promise that we'll get everyone else out safe. But I don't want you to rush into it too. Come here, stay with Stiles while I go out to deal with it." 

Derek steps on the breaks and grips the steering wheel with one hand, his other hand clenched tight around his phone.

"Okay," he says with the next exhale. "Okay." 

He hears John mutter something, but it's not to him, it sounds like he has a hand over the phone's receiver. Derek can't move, his instinct telling him that he should go to his parents, to his sisters. Then, as he's still listening to John telling Stiles that he has to go out and that Derek's coming back, the sound of sirens blares through the silence of the forest. Derek steps off the brake and pulls over just in time for the truck to come speeding around him, then another one, followed closely by the Fire Chief's car. 

Derek's heart skips and then he hears John in his ear, telling him again to turn around and come back.

"Are you going to be okay driving?" John asks then, as an afterthought. "I can get a Deputy to pick you up, son."

"I'll be fine," Derek says weakly, eyes still glued to the white smoke above the trees. "I'm on my way."

He ends the call and throws his phone on the passenger seat, then carefully turns around and starts driving back into town, able to head to the Stilinski house on autopilot even though he's only been driving himself for two weeks. When he gets there, John is already waiting for him, uniform on and ready to head out. 

"I'll call you as soon as I know anything," he tells Derek and then runs to his cruiser and drives off. 

"Derek? Derek, what's wrong? Dad said there was a fire?" Stiles says, arms wrapped around Derek's waist before they even get inside the house. 

Derek shivers and then slowly moves inside, eyes glancing towards the smoke still rising above the trees in the Preserve, visible even from where he is. Once the door is closed, he looks at Stiles's terrified expression and takes a deep breath.

"There is. I don't know where." 

"Dad's on the way now, he'll make it okay," Stiles says with such deep sincerity that Derek can't help but offer a weak smile. 

True to his word, John calls only twenty minutes later -- the longest twenty minutes of Derek's life. Everyone is fine, but the fire was at the house and the fire department is still working on containing it. However, because of Derek's call and John's quick reaction, they got everyone out of the house fast and before the fire engulfed everything. They also apprehended some people who were lurking around the woods. 

"Can you meet us at the station, Derek? Bring Stiles, I'm sure he's not going to be sleeping anytime soon anyway, school night or not," John says in the tone of a weary parent. 

Five minutes later, Stiles is protesting about being in the backseat and Derek's doing his best not to speed on the way to the station. His whole family is there, in cars parked outside, some of them looking like they want to crawl out of their skin. Derek can't blame them -- he can still smell the ghosts of the smoke and it is a full moon. He's sure he sees several pairs of glowing eyes, but then he rushes inside and right into his mother's arms, Stiles trailing behind.

"We're fine," Talia says into his hair. "I'm glad you forgot your book yesterday," she adds with teary eyes. 

Then the front door opens again and a Deputy walks in, followed by a blonde woman with a face that Derek thinks he recognizes. It's Cora whose eyes widen and she points her finger.

"That's the woman from the diner!"

The moment Cora says those words, Derek remembers her too. It's the woman who was flirting with him months ago, the one who was so interested in him. 

"Argent," Talia says through clenched teeth and it's only because Derek's still right next to her that he can hear it.

He knows the name. Everyone in his family does. The Argents are a family of hunters, one of the old traditional ones who have no intention to ever make alliances or peace treaties with werewolves. They also know the Hales well and there's no way this woman didn't know that Derek was a werewolf. 

"She tried to hit on me," he tells his mother quietly. 

Talia's eyes widen and she nods in acknowledgment, then leaves him with Cora and Stiles -- who apparently know each other from school -- to talk to the Sheriff and the Deputies. Derek's comment apparently adds the final, necessary link between the Argent woman, the arsonists, and the fire itself. By the time the night is over, she's charged with incitement of arson because she only paid people to set it, with endangerment, and some other things that Derek isn't paying attention to. The Sheriff puts it down to the story that Talia tells him -- an old business feud -- and that's it, it's over. Only, the house is not yet cleared for going back to and while the visiting family members head back home right after sunrise, the Hales can't. 

"Derek can stay with us until you sort everything out," John offers. 

Derek's uncle Peter has a place in town, but it's not big enough for all of them, not with his own newborn daughter and his wife. So Talia nods -- with Derek at the Stilinski's, they'll fit because she can share with Cora and Laura easily until the house is fixed. 

"You're staying with me?" Stiles asks blearily. 

He's been sleeping on one of the benches, his head on Derek's thigh, Cora mirroring his position on the other side. 

"Yeah, I am," Derek says with another weak smile. 

Neither of them goes to school that day, not after having stayed up all night, not with the energy of the full moon still running through Derek's body. He does fall asleep almost immediately after his head hits the pillow though, Stiles sprawled on top of him as always, only this time both of them still have all their clothes on.  Derek dreams about the fire, about what could've happened, about the blonde woman who obviously tried to get close to Derek. He dreams about that day and about going back to Stiles and about what happened. 

His dream shifts to Stiles's mouth then, to feeling the boy's lips wrapped around Derek's cock, to coming all over Stiles's face. 

Then he wakes up with a start because he can sense pain and it's not his own. He's on his back in the bed, Stiles seated across his lap, naked from the waist down. There's the scent of lube and arousal, but also the distinctive scent markers of pain. When Stiles moves a fraction, it becomes clear where it's coming from. 

"Stiles," Derek hisses when his mind registers the warmth around the head of his cock and the fact that his pants are open. "Stiles, baby, what are you doing?"

He puts his hands on Stiles's sides to stop him from moving and looks up, cringing when he sees the way Stiles's face is scrunched with discomfort.

"You were sad. I wanted to make you happy," Stiles says, hissing again as he lifts his body, Derek's cock slowly dragging out of his hole, the friction unpleasant even for Derek. 

"Oh baby, come here," Derek tells him and tugs him up, then kisses Stiles's lips that bear marks of the boy's teeth. "You were hurting yourself. That's not going to make me happy."

Stiles pouts and buries his face into Derek's neck, his entire body trembling. 

"'M sorry," he mumbles against Derek's skin. 

"Hey, no, don't apologize," Derek soothes him, or at least he tries to. 

Then his eyes shoot open as he realizes where he is. 

"Your Dad..." he whispers loudly, arms tightening around Stiles's body.

"Gone to work again. ’s afternoon now," Stiles mumbles through sniffles. 

Derek lets out a relieved sigh. He figures Stiles wouldn't be reckless enough to do something like this with his father in the house, but he's not completely sure. They've had conversations about why they can't tell anyone about this, about them, about the things they're doing, and he thinks that Stiles knows better than to risk them getting caught. 

"Did he say when he'll be back?" 

"Not 'til late," Stiles says, then hisses as he tries to move to Derek's side. 

"Oh baby," Derek mutters against the top of Stiles's head. "Don't do that again, okay? Remember how we talked about how you're still too small? And how we have to wait?"

"Didn't wanna wait," Stiles mumbles. "I licked it but it wasn't enough."

Derek shivers at the thought and image of Stiles nursing on his cock while he's asleep, waking up to the boy's lips wrapped around it and coming all over his face. His cock twitches, obviously recovering from the shock of what he woke up to. 

"Want me to make it better?" Derek asks, kissing Stiles's cheek and brushing his hand down the pajama top that Stiles is in. 

"Mhm. It stings. Not like, lots of hurt but not nice," Stiles says, his fingers trailing over Derek's chest absent-mindedly, catching on nipples and sending sparks down to Derek's cock. 

"Okay, let me make it better then," Derek tells him and squirms out of his pants and his top, then helps Stiles pull off his top too. 

Once they’re naked, he stops to look, turns Stiles on his stomach and kneels behind him to check if the boy's done any serious damage. His hole is red and puffy, definitely not as slick as it should have been even for just the tip of Derek's cock. He leans in and runs his tongue over it and Stiles's hiss is mixed with a small moan. 

"Want me to kiss it better?" Derek asks, his worry slowly breaking away. 

Stiles's answer is to arch his back, pull his knees under himself, and present his butt to Derek. It’s tempting to just dive in and lick, but Derek has other ideas. His mind is still stuck on the image of Stiles's mouth on him, the plush lips wrapped around his cock. So he shakes his head and moves until he's lying down on his back. 

"Come here," he tells Stiles, crooking a finger when Stiles looks at him.

Stiles climbs on top of him and Derek can't resist a quick and dirty kiss, diving his tongue past Stiles's lips, giving the boy a taste of what he's about to do. But then he nudges Stiles to turn around until his knees are around Derek's head and his head facing Derek's hard and leaking cock. Immediately, he feels the small tongue flicking over the tip. 

"Now you can taste while I kiss you better," he says and then lifts his head, flicking his tongue over Stiles's puffy pucker. 

Without waiting, Stiles's mouth wraps around Derek's cock and he sucks and licks, swirls his little tongue around Derek's cockhead, slides through the slit and laps up all the precome that's slowly leaking out. Derek tries to focus on the hole in front of him, but it's not easy with Stiles's ministrations. 

He licks over the rough spots, gently swipes his tongue over the pucker until he feels it shiver and clench, Stiles's hums no longer mixed with hisses of discomfort or pain. When Derek feels Stiles's cocklet harden against his chest, he knows that most of the pain is gone. He thinks he could have just used one of his werewolf abilities -- he can leech pain from others, though he's not as good at it as others -- but this seems better. Stiles's mouth is open wide around Derek's cock, he can feel it covering a lot more of it than Stiles used to be able to take in. It's not easy to hold his hips steady but having the little hole fluttering in invitation right in front of his face distracts Derek just enough that he resists fucking into Stiles's mouth. Instead, he leans in closer, ignores the way his back aches at the angle, and he pokes his tongue into the pucker, only the tiniest little bit at first.

Stiles whimpers around his cock and Derek pulls his tongue out, then pushes it past the rim and rolls it against the walls, feeling them relax. Once all the remnants of pain are gone and the air is filled with the mixture of their arousal, Derek sets a rhythm and fucks in and out of Stiles's hole until the boy is moaning softly around Derek's cock, his lithe body trembling more and more with each thrust of Derek's tongue. 

Then Derek lifts his hand up and licks a finger before he presses it past Stiles's rim along with his tongue. The additional stretch does it, Stiles seizes up and comes, leaving hints of come smears on Derek's chest and he tries to suck in air. Of course, with his mouth still around Derek's cock, that doesn't work. Instead, the increased suction sends Derek over the edge and he spurts into Stiles's mouth, feeling him swallow first and then the come dribbles out of the corners of Stiles's mouth and down Derek's length. 

Stiles pulls off moments later and twists around, meeting Derek's eyes. 

"You better now?" 

Derek gives him a smile before he pulls him up into a kiss. 

"I am. Are you?"

"Doesn't hurt anymore," Stiles says. 

"Good. Now, don't do it again, okay?"

Stiles nods solemnly. 

"But soon?" 

He's looking at Derek with such a hopeful expression in his face that Derek wants to grant his wish immediately., But not only is his refractory period not that good, he knows that Stiles isn't ready yet. 

"We'll work on it," he says instead. "Now, shower. More sleep."

Stiles's stomach rumbles against Derek's. 

"Or food," he says with a chuckle. 

Despite the panic from only a few hours ago, when Stiles climbs on his back and insists that Derek carry him into the shower, Derek feels light and carefree, probably a lot more than he should be. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/pleasuri_fic) these days.


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